To Be Forgotten
by GazingUpAtTheMoon
Summary: A older and bitter Roland muses over the injustices done to his family, and how the supposed heroes of Storybook so easily forgot him.


**Authors Note:** Trigger Warning: *Rape* is discussed in this fic. Not in great detail, but it is mentioned a couple times.

Because this story takes place in the mind of a child (now man in this fic) whose family was abused and killed, some of our main characters are not painted in a good light. So if you have no interest in reading about that (especially in concern to Regina and Zelena) please do not read this fic. And please remember this is one fictional interpenetration of a character and their response to events in a story that may goes against your opinion on what you think might happen, lets all jut be mature and respectful.

Angst ahead.

* * *

It's almost unfair how much he is forgotten.

You know what, screw that. It was completely, one hundred percent, without a doubt UNFAIR how much he is forgotten.

As a child, Roland didn't really notice the injustices done unto him. He was young, so young, when everything happened. He lost his mother, only to gain her again them lose her again, and then his father as well. And then Regina….well, it was never really clear if he really ever had, or at least what capacity he had her. And then when his father died….things between them were never clear, end of story. These losses, these pains, had been sharp daggers to his youthful heart and innocence. So much so, he was sure he never knew what it was to be truly happy since those dark, unbinding times.

But these were not the injustices Roland was musing on.

No one disagreed about the unfairness of those tragedies. Of losing both parents, both in horrific ways, and to be orphaned so young. Unfair, period the end. Roland still received pitiful looks of those around town years later.

No, what Roland was so _pissed_ about was how he was so easily forgotten by his supposed loved ones. By his supposed family. By the supposed _heroes_.

To be fair, he couldn't include the Merry Men with that bunch. They had been and continued to be his family, his _true_ family who actually gave a damn about him. But it wasn't they who ripped him from his content life in Sherwood Forest. It wasn't they who sucked his mother into their madness, and then his father. Who took them away from the lives they had loved, the lives that had made them _legends_.

His parents had somehow became the supporting characters to the tales of others. Pawns in games they did not start, victims in conflicts they had no fault in.

Roland seethed just thinking about it.

His father had been _Robin Hood_ dammnit. His mother _Maid Marian._ Heroes who fought the rich and gave to the poor, defended the helpless, spread kindness and love to all those they encountered.

And then they met _them_.

Snow White and Prince Charming. Emma Swan and Killian Jones. Henry.

Zelena.

Regina.

Roland had been young when everything had happened, but he had been told the stories enough. Technically speaking, he did not remember the first time his mother had died (the first time, _Christ)_ because, technically speaking, it did not happen. Emma and her pirate had gone back in time and altered it. But, it still stands, that in some other life-in some other dimension, his mother had been murdered by Regina- _by the Evil Queen_. Murdered for no good reason at all, only that she was kind and helped Snow White. So, his mother, a victim once over, due to a feud between Regina and Snow.

Then there was the second death, the _real_ death. Emma had saved her from Regina's clutches, had been prepared to bring her back to the future- _back to him_ -until again, misfortune struck. Zelena, the Wicked Witch, in a bid to attack her sister, to hurt Regina, killed Marian to take over her identity. So again, his mother became a victim in a fight she had no part of.

Roland supposed what happened to Zelena when she was Marian didn't really count, that he couldn't truly be upset over it. But…damminit….at the time, it had hurt like hell and he could never quite shake the memories. Seeing his mother-who he thought was his mother-get her heart broken when Robin chose Regina, then to see her being cursed into a frozen state in which there seemed to be no escape?

And then there was his father. The noble Robin Hood. The man of legends who had stories and poems written about him. What had he become when meeting these people?

Roland threw his glass of empty liquor against the wall as he thought about it.

He became as much a victim as his mother. To have his heart so carelessly pulled this way and that. To fall in love with the woman who had once killed his wife. To be targeted by the Wicked Witch just because he was the focus of Regina's desires. To be lied to, to have his friends turned into _monkeys_ , to lose him home in Sherwood . _To be raped_.

Roland seethed at having just seen Zelena and Regina at Granny's, sharing cups of teas and laughing about something.

Like none of it happened or mattered.

And then to be _killed_. Murdered by the Lord of the Underworld for what? Robin had only gone down there to save Hook, Emma's love. Hades only killed Robin because he had been aiming for Regina, on Zelena's behalf. All other people and their issues. Their dramas. Their utter bullshit.

Again and again and again, his family was cursed by these people and their endless conflicts.

There was always- _always_ -something. Some villain, some curse, some quest. Something they had to fight and win, no matter what. And God forbid one of them ever get killed. No, such a thing would never happen. But everyone else? Oh, free game. And who cared in the end? The heroes surely didn't. Oh, they would be sad. They would mourn and forever promise to remember their fallen comrades. But then they would go home, to their loved ones who were safe-always safe-because that's all they ever truly cared about. Their safety. Their lives. No one else.

And here Roland was, alone.

Regina attempted to be the foster mother she almost was, but, with Robin gone, the connection became strained. Roland wanted to be with the Merry Men, not _her_. So there had been some visits, in the beginning. Trips to Granny's, trips to Ice Cream, even the occasional walk in the forest. But they became less and less as time wore on and the inevitable new villain strolled into town then making them nonexistent.

Roland found he really didn't care.

Then there was his sister. Another strained relationship. Though she was Robin's daughter, Robin was gone and Zelena was not. The woman who raped his dad, who killed his mother, now raised his sister. And though the Merry Men had tried to make it otherwise, it never changed.

(And Regina didn't help. Regina didn't help. Regina didn't help).

He wished he could be close to Robin. He really did. But he couldn't go anywhere near the red headed witch because of her sins. She was the cause of his loneliness, of his parent's misery-of their _deaths_. As a boy he couldn't handle it, and still to this day he couldn't. Zelena, since she was apparently _good_ now, had tried to make a bridge between them. Tried to make him have some kind of relationship with his sister, despite all the bad blood.

It was a feeble attempt, one made of obligation rather than true commitment.

And they did have something, though it was certainly not what it should have been. Roland barely saw Robin and when he did, it was always passing, and mostly during the rare times he dragged himself to Grannys to have a meal he didn't need to hunt and cook over a fire. Then Robin had her 13th birthday, and she apparently became old enough to demand something of him. Dinner, once a month, no matter what. It was the least he could give her since they had nothing else. No holiday get togethers, no bonfires with the Merry Men, no hikes through the forest. No text messages, phone calls, how was your day, how is your family.

(She had red hair like the witch. Red hair)

Roland hated himself for Robin. Hated he couldn't be more for her, do more for her. While he did see Zelena every time he looked at her, he could also discern his father in her features. They had the same eyes, the same smirk. Apparently she was skilled with a bow, and was quite lethal since she also had the gift of magic.

But she didn't like the forest much. Robin had attempted, only a handful of times, to follow in her father's footsteps. She tried to hang out and bond with the Merry Men, to survive with nothing but the dirt beneath her and the tress above and without the pleasures of the modern world.

They didn't mix well.

So now they had their once a month dinner and nothing more.

So yes, Roland's life was unfair. His family had been dragged into the lives of others and he had paid the price for it. He was alone because of it. And they had forgotten him after all of it. The heroes used his family and then when _he_ needed them the most, they were gone. There was no more common thread to hold them to him. There was nothing.

Snow and David were kind and smiled and asked the usual how are you doing. Emma and Killian did the same. Neal, though only a bit younger than him, never crossed paths or social circles Roland kept. Henry had tried-had at least attempted, to form some kind of relationship with him. They had, after all, almost been brothers. But Henry had been a teenager when Roland lost it all, busy with his own growing up and finding out who he was all on his own. And then he became a damn hero like the rest of them, committed to fighting for the greater good.

Sometimes they shared a drink at the Rabbit Hole.

Regina, well, that relationship meant nothing to him anymore. Where she had once tried to be close to him, she now tried to put some distance. Guilt, he supposed, for his father, for her failure to watch over him. Her failures that led to everything that had happened to him, Robin, and Marian.

Good, she should stay away.

Roland found another glass and filled it.

Just another night in Storybooke for a supporting character.


End file.
